Were ours by speech to lengthen out the hour.

But here in quietness I can recall

All I would tell thee, how thou art to me

Impulse and inspiration, and with thee

I can but smile though all my idols fall.

[Pg 46]

I wait my meed as others who have known

Patience till to their utmost stature grown.

As when the heavens are draped in gloomy gray

And earth is tremulous with a vague unrest

A glory fills the tender, troubled West

That glads the closing of November's day,

So breaks in sun-smiles my beclouded sky

When day is over and I know thee nigh.

Thou art so much, all this and more, to me,

And what am I to thee? Can I repay

These many gifts? Is there no royal way

Of recompense, so I may proudly see

The man my heart delights to praise renowned

For wealth and honor, and with rapture crowned?

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